


Like kids do

by AlexZorlok



Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: Because that's what they deserve, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Just kids being kids, Post-Canon, Post-Monsters of Men (Chaos Walking)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28117728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexZorlok/pseuds/AlexZorlok
Summary: Todd wakes up in spring, one month before his birthday.
Relationships: Viola Eade & Todd Hewitt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Like kids do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_empty_pen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_empty_pen/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Jack! I hope you're having a great, amazing time today and petting your cat. There was a number of things I could write for you, but I eventually brushed all the vnc ones aside, and this was born. Happy 19!

Winter on New World is four months long.

Maybe Viola should have been more curious about that. It is far from being the only and not even the first thing that she found foreign about this planet, and it might be the most harmless one of all: just an extra thirteenth month somewhere in between, stretching the year out, maybe letting children be children for a little while longer, or so it would do if Prentisstown wasn’t encouraging the opposite of that. The fact came as a surprise the first time Viola heard it, sure, but then she brushed it off; there have been far more important things than calendars to think about, on the run, and in rebellion, and overall when she has been so desperately trying to stay alive.

It’s not like the passage of time has held much meaning after Viola landed. One day passed, then came another, with two moons in the sky giving way to the sun, and then some nights all of the light was hidden behind the clouds, layers of them as thick as the smell of the swamp surrounding her at all times. And all Viola could call it was existence, existence, existence. Endless survival.

Todd used to keep track of time. Viola heard it in his thoughts, in his Noise: one month until his birthday, then thirty days, then three weeks… Then Todd was gone, and inside the house of healing all Viola could do was long to get back to him, losing the count of days that had passed on her own, with no date to ground her like it did him.

She never did wish him a happy birthday.

Days turning to weeks on the run, then seven months more, then another at war— it all concluded in winter. First snowflakes hitting the ground, sinking into the depth of the ocean and melting there. Brightly lit blue sky— then darkness, cold, with no Todd around again. Four long months to cross out of the calendar.

Todd wakes up in spring, one month before his birthday.

Spring is when life finally starts running.

They sit on the cold damp grass outside the Spackle camp, tho it can hardly be called a camp anymore, not when the war purpose of it has long ceased, and it is more of a village now, or a full town, or whatever one of the many who call this place home might want to call it as well. Viola included.

They have a home here. She, and Ben, who’s built it over the months with the help of The Sky, and now Todd with them. Far enough to be near their own people, down in a newly-renamed capital of New World, but close enough that Viola was able to sneak into the Pathways’ end every chance she got over those months, tending to Todd and calling out to him.

They sit on the damp grass that was covered in wet snow mere weeks ago, and Todd is right here, closer than within a reach, his head on Viola’s shoulder, and Viola can hear him, all the tenderness and remains of exhaustion and  _ life _ inside of him as he breathes.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Viola asks, quiet but with genuine curiosity in her voice.

Todd lifts his head from her shoulder, his look questioning. His Noise has been different since he awoke, the different they were expecting, with brighter images in it and overall clearer thoughts; but it’s still just as loud and emotional, still the same old Todd Hewitt.

“My favourite colour?”

Viola shrugs. “This is the most basic question I can think of, and I’ve never asked you that before.”

Viola feels like she should be a little embarrassed asking this, such a childish question after everything they’ve been through, now when she knows every little detail there is to know about the first months of his life better than she could ever know her own, and especially when his every thought has flashed in front of her eyes since the very moment she met him; but nevertheless, she finds that she really wants to know.

Todd contemplates, colours switching each other inside of his head and inside of Viola’s by connection, one after another in a full pallet. By the time Todd opens his mouth to answer, Viola decides on her own as well.

“Blue.” he says, simply, nothing major behind that choice at all.

The colour of freedom.

“What’s this?” he asks, on another day, when they are sitting out in the field again, enjoying the sun that has been gradually getting warmer and warmer.

Angharrad is out with them, munching on the fresh spring grass. Todd brushes his hand up and down one of her legs, nodding along some of her silly little horsie thoughts, about light and safety, and he watches Viola in front of him. She looks up from her hands, brows furrowed slightly in frustration. Then wipes her hands on her own pants and shakes her head.

“Just wanted to try something.”

Todd eyes the messy ornament of petals in her lap and reaches out, letting go of Angharrad for a moment. Something flashes through his Noise for a split moment, something Viola doesn’t quite have time to catch, and then his own hands are busy with flowers, tangling them together. Viola’s eyes widen. Todd reads her question in them before she opens her mouth.

“Cillian taught me.” he says, a small smile on his face and warmth at the mention of the name.

“Not Ben?”

“It was  _ for _ Ben. Cillian caught me yelling at the sheep and said it ain’t gonna make Ben happy when he’s back from the Mayor. Said we gotta direct my yelling somewhere else, and there were flowers round all that sheep, so.”

Viola hums, looking back at the house behind them, where Ben must be busy with supper, all the while smiling at the mental image of him greeting little Todd with flowers in his messy hair.

Todd moves closer while she’s looking away.

“I’ll teach you.” he says, getting Viola to look at him. With the wind ruffling his hair slightly, Viola can clearly imagine a couple of flowers getting tucked behind his ears today as well. “If you teach me how to read.”

“Something tells me my job  _ ain’t gonna _ be that easy.” she teases, getting an eye roll out of Todd, fond chuckles sounding from both of them the next second.

Viola watches Todd’s fingers work around the stems, a little clumsy, a skill long forgotten but muscle memory still doing its lousy job. He tries again, and she follows, amazed by how much harder it seems right now in comparison to all the bandages she’s learnt to apply, or wound cleaning. And how much easier. How surprisingly fun.

“We never got to swim in real rivers on the settlement ship, either.” she says, just by the way, listening in to the water running somewhere not so far away.

When Todd finally gets a new fissionbike on his fourteenth birthday, Ben has to teach them both to ride it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think anyone's gonna actually actively question me, but some things did bother Me a lot while I was writing so:  
> 1) I realize that it probably doesn't make much sense for a farming planet to have an extra month of winter, it should probably be put somewhen for a harvesting season but I. might not know much about farming.  
> 2) Adding to that, I don't think apples grow in march, so that can't be when Todd's birthday would be.  
> 3) Still think it would be in spring because 7 or so months did pass in book 2, and I'm Pretty sure winter was mentioned either there or in Monsters of Men, but I also didn't have my books within reach while writing this, so who knows.  
> 4) Could be May now that I'm thinking about it, but there's still an extra month somewhere in there, and either way, it doesn't matter much, does it.  
> 5) Whatever, I needed winter/spring for aesthetic writing purposes.  
> 6) (Also this is sci-fi, and I do what I want)


End file.
